Pumped up kicks
by LuvKyleAndStan
Summary: A 15 year old Butters is constantly bullied and humiliated. Then one night he finds something in his daddy's box of fun things. What happens when he takes it to school the next day? Rated for violence and language. ONESHOT


**A/N: So I'm well aware i have been neglecting my other stories, but life has been insane lately. This one just came to me one afternoon, and i figure since the idea is fairly original, i would post it up on the site. It's my first one shot, so be kind and leave a review? I'd like that.**

He pushed his shaggy blonde hair out of his angry brown eyes and lit up a cigarette, the third one in an hour. He took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the smoke slowly seep out of his mouth**. **

The guy was 15, 5'6, so short for his age. A lower then average graded sophomore, he was definitely trouble**, **no doubt about it. He had already begun experimenting with drugs and alcohol, and it was unknown to him, but he was a father. The transition took place with a 23 year old girl at a rave party the month prior, and even she didn't know yet.

Now here he stood, looking up at the cold, cruel building where had been mocked, terrorized, had food thrown at him, his books stomped on and hidden away in various lockers, and all that lovely shit** ,** for almost two years. **  
><strong>

Leopold Stotch pushed his overgrown blonde hair out of his eyes once again and smiled to himself.

"I won't tell you my plan, but I'm coming for you!" Leopold stated out loud. His nickname was Butters, although his tormentors christened him "Fuckers." They were indeed the master of wittiness.

Butters pushed open the door to South Park High and innocently wondered down the hall to his locker. Stopping at number 1291 usually produced fear in his stomach, but not today. He checked his cellphone: 10:58 AM. All the other kids would be pouring out of the classrooms to run off to lunch, or debate club, or whatever the fuck they did at noon hour. Or so they thought.

Out of boredom, Butters looked at his contact list. There were his parents. Mom could barely text, and daddy worked a long day, so having their numbers were next to pointless. There were also a couple of older girls he liked to have sex with on occasion, and then a bunch of druggies over the age of 18 who he had become involved with when high school started and he became a "loser". They were typically dropouts with 8 credits, greasy long hair, unshaven faces with last week's ketchup stains on their t-shirts and ripped up jeans. You know the type.

Then the bell rang. As predicted, the preps and the jocks and the geeks and the average fuckers, along with some gays, some anorexics, some goths and some wannabes, all poured out of the classrooms and started walking either way down the hall. Butters just waited; he knew what was coming.

"Aye Fuckers!" The voice of Eric Cartman boomed from the crowd.

Eric was 5'11 and well over 220 pounds, which was no match for the 140 pound Butters. Not normally anyway.

His cronies (Clyde, Craig, Token, Kenny, and Stan) were standing beside him, the shortest stood in at 5'9, and the tallest at 6'3.

"Alright Fuckers, gimme the lunch money and lets go to the boys room. Your hair needs a washing!" Eric said. His cronies snickered stupidly, flexing their muscles.

"I don't think so," Butters said calmly. He lit a fourth cigarette-right there in the building!- took a long drag, and exhaled into Cartmans face.

"What the fuck! Respect my authoritah, Fuckers!" Eric said angrily, coughing. Then Butters pulled it out-the pistol- and shot Eric Cartman in the head. His grey eyes showed shock as he fell backwards, bumping into Kenny and Clyde.

The other guys took off running. Butters chased after Craig, Token, and Clyde. They had been the worst, next to Cartman, between holding him down to get punched and beaten, and forcing him into lockers.

Girls were screaming. Guys were shouting. Freshmen were crying. Teachers and other students were trying to figure out what was going on. Everyone was running this way and that to the doors, dropping their bags, purses and cellphones. Yet Butters, who was still smoking, felt nothing but glee among all the worry and agony. When a teacher asked him to stop smoking, he planted a bullet between his head.

"All you fucking kids better outrun my gun!" Butters called out, then shot a junior guy who had laughed at Cartmans mean words. He laughed and shot another guy who had humiliated him in grade 9.

Then he spotted a group of girls inside a classroom. Instead of running, they had hidden among the desks and turned the lights off. Clever. Butters spotted her quickly. Seizing her blonde hair, he dragged her to the front of the classroom, her screaming all the way. One girl tried to run to the door; Butters shot her in the back.

"Sup bitch?" Butters asked Bebe Stevens, who was sobbing hysterically.

"Please-please let me go!" She cried. Butters smacked her so hard her lip bust open.

"You bitch. You fucking bitch!" He said, clamping down on her hair and shook her until she screamed. "You rejected me, and i loved you!" He slapped her again before planting a bullet in her head. Then he left the other hysterical girls behind and proceeded down the hall.

He saw Craig, Stan and Clyde. They were almost to the door. He shot at all three but only managed to get Clyde in the ass and Craig in the head. Stan kept running. Butters saw him grab Wendy Testaburger's hand and pull her out the door.

"Butters! HEY! Butters!"

Butters turned around into the watery eyes of Kyle.

"Where is everybody, Kyle?" Butters asked, lighting his fifth cigarette. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:06 A.M. Yet none of the students were in sight. He saw tons of discarded books, bags, purses, make up tubes, cellphones, IPod's, high heeled shoes that girls obviously couldn't run in, money, and just about anything else. But no students.

"They left, Butters," Kyle said, tears glistening in his eyes. He allowed them to fall down his face.

Behind them, Clyde was laying on the ground crying and Craig was close to him, dead. Kyle shook his head and stepped over the lost possessions and the occasional body, walking towards the door. Butters didn't attempt to shoot him. Instead, he tossed the cigarette to side. Waiting until Kyle had safely left the building, he took out his lighter and lit the entrance on fire. Hearing screams of shock from outside, he started to go back to every person he had killed.

He torched Craig, who was laying dead right by the door. He then went to Clyde, who knew what he was going to do. Screaming, the mutilated boy attempted to get up and run away, but was unable. So he collapsed, crying, to the floor, and Butters torched him alive.

He ran down the hall, away from the agony filled screams, over the discarded possessions. He entered the classroom, stepping over the girl who had tried to escape. He kissed the deceased Bebe before taking his lighter and setting her into flames, then the girl who had tried to escape.

He stopped to do the exact same to the seniors he had shot, as well as the teacher who told him to stop smoking.

Then he came to Eric, who had shit his pants. Butters stopped and stared. He was aware of the smoke circling the air, he could hear see and smell it. But he didn't rush out of the building...what was the point? Just to go to prison?

Butters pulled out his seventh cigarette, which was the final in his pack. Lighting it up, he continued to glance down at Eric. He saw flames increasing in the building as he started puffing up and blowing out the smoke. But he didn't care, not really. He pulled out his cellphone as sirens filled the air around the diminishing school, and he scrolled through his contacts until he came to his mother. He texted her:

_**mum i luv u k? sorry**_

Then he took a drag of his smoke and texted his father:

_**you fucking asshole piece of shit. i hope u fucken die a horrible and miserable death jerk off**_

As soon as the text had delivered, he took his final puff of the cigarette, threw it onto Eric's body, and turned the gun on himself. He collapsed, gasping to the floor. Noises filled the air, and he was aware of fire fighters trying to put out the fire, but only slightly.

His last 10 seconds on Earth consisted of him weakly lifting his cellphone to read his father's response:

_**Butters! You are grounded, mister!**_

Then it was over. It was 11:12 A.M.

**A/N: Whew! Well what did you guys think? Leave a review, please!**

**Mucho love **


End file.
